


The Potential Prospects of Tea and Olives

by sleeptalker



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:08:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeptalker/pseuds/sleeptalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe, girlfriends are like olives.<br/>And maybe, boyfriends are like tea.<br/>But the thing is that tea and olives don't go so well together. Or do they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Potential Prospects of Tea and Olives

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't read/seen the play (shocking, I know) so I'm just going by the videos. I apologise if anything's too inaccurate.

_Maybe,_ Beatrice thinks one day,  _boyfriends are like tea._

It makes sense, to her at least. 

She can remember a time when she used to love tea. When it was summer and she was 14 and she spent every day in the presence of a boy with sunburnt skin and long, annoyingly awkward limbs. She drank tea every day to impress him, and found herself actually _liking_ it. 

But then everything changed and " _girls are dumb, I live in the now_ " happened and she couldn't drink tea without feeling sad. 

And then, the summer after that. She'd resolved to hate the boy who was no longer sunburnt and no longer was her friend. She forced herself to hate tea, because tea is stupid and stereotypical and hipster and _typical_ and she wanted no part of it. 

Tea reminded her too much of long days in the sun, horror movie marathons, prank calls and cheap Christmas presents. Tea reminded her too much of Benedick Hobbes, damnit, and she'd tried for so long to forget all that. 

She hasn't had a cup of tea in 3 years. 

 

 

 

" _Benedick is in love with Beatrice_ " happens and she convinces herself that she doesn't care. 

It doesn't change anything, really, that he likes her. Because he's still a dick and he's still Benedick. She's still Beatrice. She hates him. She hates him. She hates him. 

She _has to hate him_. 

 

 

 

Yeah, she liked him when she was 14. She didn't know any better. They got along well, even better than she and Pedro. He was new, and she was infused with romantic movies and boys with English accents and kissing in the rain and shit like that. 

She fell in love with his accent and the novelty of him and the _idea_ of him. 

At least, that's what she tells herself. 

The truth is that she fell in love with  _"fair Beatrice"_ and  _"I'm making a cuppa, d'you want one?"_ and stories about his life in England and surprisingly good Scottish accents. 

And then he crushed her heart to a thousand pieces. 

 

 

 

Hero's party is marked down as one of the worst days in history. 

Beatrice finds herself standing in the driveway of her cousins' house with her shaking cousin in her arms and the people she called _friends_ watching from the window and whispering, never helping. 

And Hero says "I can't breathe" but neither can go into the house to retrieve her inhaler. So Beatrice has to walk her round the side of the house where people can't see her and tells her "Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly." for what feels like hours. 

After a while she hears the sound of people coming out of the house, cars slamming. Someone is shouting, then she realises it's Ben. 

"Get out the fucking house and shut up!" 

Hero twists in her arms, her face pink. Her eyes are panicked. Beatrice wavers for a moment, then decides. "I'll go check it out. Stay here, and try to breathe. I'll be right back." 

She walks cautiously around the side, hoping for some reason that it's Pedro or Leo or _someone_ who actually knows Hero. Somehow, it's unbelievable that out of everyone, _Benedick_ is the one who stayed. 

"Is Hero alright?" He's standing far away, but she can hear the concern in his voice. 

Usually she would say something sarcastic, (" _of course she's not fucking alright, you dickhead_ ") but now's not the time so she shakes her head instead. 

He shoves his hands into his pockets. "Everyone's gone."

"Leo?" 

He bows his head, and that is answer enough. 

"I'll get Hero to bed. She's... I think she'll be okay, once we get hold of her inhaler and all that." 

He doesn't say anything, and she expects him to leave, but he doesn't. 

"You can go, you know."

His answer is immediate. "I'd rather stay here, make sure Hero's alright." 

She can't smile, not after everything that just happened, not when Hero is hurting like she is. But the corners of her mouth turn up a little bit. 

 

 

 

Hero starts leaving her room again after 2 days locked up in there. She doesn't go to school, but Ben and Beatrice take it in turns at the end of the day to go round all her classes and get notes on whatever was taught that day. The teachers are understanding, but don't seem to want to get involved. 

Ben comes over almost every day after school. Beatrice turns on the TV and she and Ben watch mindless sitcoms while Hero does her homework. Sometimes, after that, they'll all watch a movie together. Other times, Hero goes to bed early. 

 

 

 

Sometimes Hero will say that she wants to be left alone and will sleep for most of the day. On these days, usually weekends, Beatrice goes over to Ben's house. They talk strategy, or at least they try. 

The first time she goes over, Ben immediately starts boiling the kettle. As he's pouring his cup, he asks, quietly: "Do you want a cuppa?" 

It's reminiscent of old times, this whole tea thing, but Beatrice finds that it doesn't hurt as much as she expected it to. 

He takes her silence as a rejection. "I forgot. You don't like tea, do you?"  

"I like tea." Her voice is weak, but the sentiment is strong. "Remember?" She references The Thing that they're both thinking of but not saying. The unmentionable summer of 3 years ago. 

He's hesitant, she knows. But he nods slowly and fetches another cup. 

Once it's made, he sets it on the kitchen table, handle facing towards her. Beatrice regards it for a moment before gingerly picking it up. 

It's warm in her hands, and steaming. She takes a sip, being careful not to burn herself, and the warmth fills her up inside, blossoming. It's pleasant. Teas isn't as bad as she thought it was. And yeah, it stirs up some memories. But the good ones outnumber the bad ones, really. It's not frightening anymore. 

Ben is staring at her. She smiles at him over the rim of her cup, and thinks that it might be the first genuine smile she's directed at him in 3 years. He is surprised, but grins back at her. 

 

 

 

For the next few weeks she drinks tea every morning. Hero notices the change, because she's Hero and knows Beatrice better than anyone. 

They're eating breakfast one morning when, from across the table, Hero pipes up. "When did you start liking tea, Beatrice?" 

She makes a noncommittal noise, hoping Hero won't press it. 

"And British tea, too. With milk, and everything." 

"I've always drank tea." Beatrice only hopes it sounds believable. 

"No, you haven't. You seemed to associate it with a certain boy. And now, all of a sudden, you like it?" 

"It's nothing. Really." But her smile betrays her. Hero laughs, overjoyed.

"You like Ben!" 

"No, I - I don't!" 

"Yes, you do." 

Beatrice covers her face with her hands and groans. "Maybe." 

 

 

 

Perhaps boyfriends aren't like tea. 

Perhaps, it's just Ben. 

 


End file.
